


all the answers

by onceuponamoon



Series: abo jt/ebs [19]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Christmas, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:51:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21953224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceuponamoon/pseuds/onceuponamoon
Summary: “Papai?”John looks up from where he’d been spacing out on Tiago’s soft tuft of hair tucked in the crook of the nest and smiles when he sees Matty’s pinched little frown from the doorway.  New babies have put him in a constant good mood too, so something is clearly worrying him.
Relationships: Jordan Eberle/John Tavares
Series: abo jt/ebs [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/968982
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	all the answers

**Author's Note:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS, Y'ALL :)
> 
> i hope you all have a wonderful holiday season full of love and the gift of presence if not presents. your patience has been the best gift of 2019. i decided to finally spit this one out just in the nick of time.
> 
> unbeta'd (for now!)

December 2027

John’s been eyeing Jordan ever since the day after American Thanksgiving, back when John was still waddling from nest to bathroom and back again and counting down the days ‘til he could hold the three babies growing inside him.

Every year since they’ve met, Jordan gets this funny little twinkle in his eyes and a pep in his step when Christmas time nears -- 

And this year, it’s compounded by the fact that he has three tiny bundles to scent and kiss and love. It’s like it doesn’t even matter that they won’t be able to spend time with their respective families since it’s still too early in their paternity leave.

John doesn’t mind.

He likes the way Jordan’s scent is nothing but soft and rounded, complimenting the milky-sweet scent of newborns and contrasting the jealous-sour tinge coming from the rest of their little monsters. Even with all the meltdowns (twins) and not-so-subtle attempts at sneaking peeks at presents (the “big” triplets), Jordan’s damn near _radiating_ joy. 

Maybe John’s getting soft in his older age, but between the midnight feedings and trying to fend off the twins who refuse to keep aware from his sacred milk supply, he’s too tired to protest at Jordan’s insistence of getting them all into matching flannel jim-jams -- as Nico would say -- for super dorky Christmas Eve photos. He still hasn’t lost all of the baby weight, and it’s not like this pregnancy was much of a secret, but John’s still a little red in the cheeks thinking about the comments people are going to leave regarding his ability to “bounce back” and be ready to go come playoffs. 

But honestly? 

He wasn’t about to give two shits if that was something else to make Jordan smile.

“_Papai?_” 

John looks up from where he’d been spacing out on Tiago’s soft tuft of hair tucked in the crook of the nest and smiles when he sees Matty’s pinched little frown from the doorway. New babies have put him in a constant good mood too, so something is clearly worrying him. 

“Hmm?” John’s a little preoccupied with feeding Karina, his only girl out of the last brood. She’s still small enough to fit comfortably on his forearm when she’s nursing; it’s easier to get the other two fed with the aid of his donut pillow. 

“Is, um...is Santa real?”

Internally, John gives a forlorn, _Oh, no_, because he definitely thought he had a few more years of Christmas magic to share with his oldest three. But here’s Matty, fluffy haired and semi-toothless, bouncing with his elbows on the arm of the couch with far too much pre-nap energy, asking John to break his heart.

“Because? My friend, Sam, at school, she said that, um...” Matty trails off momentarily, darting his tongue into the space where one of his canines had come out. (He’s still in the bragging phase, because he beat Nico _and_ Addie to first dibs on Tooth Fairy money.) “She said she found presents in the closet that said they were from Santa on them but _you_ said that Santa only drops off presents on Christmas Eve.” 

Of course, it’s accusatory. Jordan had said, “Go ask your Papai,” and John had blurted out the first thing that came to mind. So this -- it’s John’s doing.

John sighs.

“Well, honey,” John starts, wondering if it’s too late since he hesitated so hard. “He’s...well, he _was_ a real person. But he’s not anymore.” He runs a finger over the fluff of Kari’s hair and tries not to let his scent go dark with the way Matty’s face falls a little.

“Then why -- Why did--”

John swallows hard, trying not to let Matty’s watery tone get to him. “Come here, bubs,” he says, patting the space next to him on the couch. After Matty clambers up and cuddles in close, John continues, “I don’t ever want to lie to you. If you ask me a question, I’m going to always try to answer truthfully, even if you don’t understand the reasons why, okay?”

Matty nods, half-burying his face into John’s shirt when John lifts an arm for him to snuggle closer. 

“Well, a lot of times, parents think it’s nice to pretend that there’s someone that kids believe knows when you’re doing something good or something bad,” he explains slowly. “It means you think about the consequences of your actions. Do you know what that means?” John asks.

“...yes.”

“What does it mean?” John prods. 

Matty sits up a little and bites at his lip, reaching out a finger to trace along Kari’s socked toes as he thinks it over. “It means...that you don’t do bad things because you could get in trouble?”

John hums and then says, “What else?”

“That if you do good things then you get presents?”

Huffing a laugh, John shakes his head. Kid logic is wonderfully simple. 

“Close. It means to be aware of what you do and how it can affect others or yourself. Not necessarily because you get presents, but because doing good things is what is right.” John lets Matty mull it over until it’s time to switch sides, saying, “Alright, up, _kluseczko_.”

Matty huffs and then finally says, “I...why does _everyone_ talk about Santa, _Papai_? We go sit on his lap at the party and _Babcia_ asks if we mailed our letters to him yet…” 

A pair of tears roll down his cheek and John -- his heart clenches. Kari makes a soft noise against his chest and John soothes her, coaxing at the corner of her mouth until she latches again. By the time John’s finished, Matty’s swiping furiously at the tears that refuse to stop falling and John can’t help but swallow around the lump in his throat and the sympathetic prickles behind his eyes.

“Hey,” John says, patting at his free knee. “Come here, bub.” 

Matty’s hesitation hurts, just a little, but John knows it’s part of his instincts warring with the tears that keep falling. He wants to be angry, but he can’t help but seek out comfort, too. 

“I know you’re frustrated,” John says as Matty sits on him, snuggling as much into John’s chest as he can, what with the infant in the way. He kisses the top of Matty’s head, lets him know it’s okay to scent. “I know it’s not fair and that makes you sad.”

After a shaky breath, Matty says, “I really wanted him to be real, _Papai_.”

“I know, buddy,” John says, rubbing soothingly through Matty’s shaggy hair. He’s overdue for a cut, but he’s also already started trying to emulate half the guys in the league. 

He doesn’t really know what else to say.

Maybe that makes him an imperfect parent, but...sometimes he doesn’t have all the answers. Sometimes pretending that he _does_ is exhausting. 

Matty cries himself out against John’s chest, quiet and sleepy, but not quite dozing the way Kari is, her mouth a perfect little moue of contentment with a dribble of milk pearled at the corner. He shifts and John cradles him closer, kissing the top of his head.

With a great sigh, Matty sits a little more upright and swipes at his eyes.

“I’m still sad,” he says.

“That’s okay, buddy. You can be sad.”

As simple as it is, he says, “I don’t _wanna_, though.”__

_ _John can scent the frustration building over the silky sour newborn smells. He can scent Jordan’s curiosity from halfway across the house and the...trust? That whatever is going on, John can handle it._ _

_ _He’s probably got his hands full with the twins anyway._ _

_ _“No one likes to be sad,” John says quietly. He lets Matty wiggle away until he’s perched on John’s knee. “What do you want?” _ _

_ _Matty looks at him, determined, eyes and nose just like looking into a window from John’s past._ _

_ _“More than anything in the whole wide world,” John adds._ _

_ _That gets a pensive look from Matty. He nudges closer again, unable to resist the draw of contented omegas despite his distress. “I wanna play hockey like you and Daddy,” Matty says. “And I want Nico and Addie to go to my games. And Hallie and Han and the babies, too, I guess. Even when we all get real, real big.”_ _

_ _John can’t help but smile softly. _ _

_ _Kari fusses in his arm, reaching out an arm before curling it back up under her chin. John takes a moment to place her in the Bassinest with the other two, all fat and fed and sleeping, and then redresses in his sweater before returning to the couch to sit with his eldest. _ _

_ _Matty takes the opportunity to fully claim John’s lap, gangly limbs be damned. He scents John’s collarbone and sighs again. _ _

_ _“I want that for you, sweetheart,” John finally says. “And I think you know that you don’t need Santa to be real to make that happen.”_ _

_ _“Oh.”_ _

_ _John stifles a laugh and ruffles Matty’s hair again. Sometimes alpha logic is blithely simple. Other times, it’s an insurmountable brick wall. _ _

_ _They sit quietly for a while longer, just snuggling._ _

_ _When Matty elects to speak again, it’s to say, “Is it okay if I still wanna pretend he’s real?”_ _

_ _“Oh,” John says, a delayed echo. That...never occurred to him. Pregnancy brain. “Of course. If you want to.”_ _

_ _“And can I keep saying he’s real to Addie and Nico?”_ _

_ _“Sure,” John says. “But now that you know the truth...it’s up to you. You can always tell them that they can still come to me or Dad.”_ _

_ _Determined, Matty squeezes John around the middle and then sits up. “I’ll keep pretending so they don’t have to know.”_ _

_ _He breezes out of the room without so much as a goodbye or a see you later and John lets out a world-weary exhale, pushing his messy hair off of his forehead. Before he’s even relaxed back into the couch, Jordan’s scent strengthens and then he’s there, eyes wide and expression concerned._ _

_ _“Everything okay?” he asks, eyes darting to where the babies lay sleeping peacefully._ _

_ _John says, “Kari fell asleep nursing so I forgot to burp her. Oh, and I broke Matty’s heart and told him that Santa isn’t real.” _ _

_ _“Aww,” Jordan says, coming around to flop down next to John. Then he huffs a little laugh, says, “Glad it was you and not me.”_ _

_ _“Yeah, well. He says he’s gonna keep pretending for Addie and Nico’s sake.” John cards his fingers through Jordan’s hair (that’s almost definitely starting to thin) with one cand and then taps at his chin with a finger from the other. “You get dibs on whoever’s next. I can’t do it again. Not for at least another couple of years.”_ _

_ _Jordan reaches for John’s fingers and drags it up so that he can scent and kiss John’s wrist, nosing beneath the sweater. “Deal,” he says. “Sorry you had to do that.”_ _

_ _“Thought we had at least five more years before that became a thing,” John admits. He traces the bags under Jordan’s eyes, wonders if his are any better, then the aquiline arch of his nose._ _

_ _“Yeah.”_ _

_ _Jordan, head in John’s lap and legs hanging off the arm of the couch, looks half-asleep already._ _

_ _John pats at his chest and moves, shifting enough to signal that he needs Jordan to lift his head so that he can get out from under him. Before John’s even upright, Jordan’s snoozing, mouth slack and open._ _

_ _He tries not to laugh._ _

_ _

_ _

_ _After a quick detour to the bathroom, John finds Addie and Nico in the den, curled up together on the couch reading a book. Matty’s in the corner playing ball hockey and the twins are locked up in the pen, doing their level best to throw every single item that’s inside it over the side and onto the rug. _ _

_ _John smiles, heart warm as he takes in his first five. _ _

_ _“Alright, guys,” John says after a moment, “It’s time to meditate for an hour and then we’re going to decorate our sugar cookies for Santa. Sound good?”_ _

_ _General consensus is yes, even though Matty grumbles about the nap. Nico was already purring for Addie, so really, it’s just a matter of getting Matias onto the couch with the other two. _ _

_ _They get settled in with blankets and John turns the television onto a nature documentary about the world’s cutest animals so that they have something soothing as background noise if they choose not to nap, then he hefts the twins out of their jail and onto his hips._ _

_ _Hallie clutches a hand into his shirt and Han immediately leans her head into his chest._ _

_ _“Nope,” John says, too tired to feel guilty. “No milk for you.”_ _

_ _Han whines and slaps at his chest, but John’s got bottles already in the heater from when he’d fed Tiago and Noé. To get these two down is a matter of a bottle each, reading their favorite book, and then purring for nearly twenty minutes, but then they’re out like a pair of overly bright lights._ _

_ _With everyone sleeping, John figures he might as well get some cleaning done._ _

_ _

_ _Jordan’s been great about staying on top of the laundry and keeping the twins and older triplets full while John’s been busy with the newest arrivals. It’s a juggling act of epic proportions -- one that John knew would be insane the moment they heard that there were _three_ heartbeats rather than two -- but they get it done. Practice makes perfect, and all of that._ _

_ _In the kitchen, the sink only has a couple of the kid-friendly plastic cups in it and John just rinses them out and tosses them in the top rack of the dishwasher before hitting start. The dishes from the cookies were, miraculously, already loaded in. _ _

_ _John probably owes Jordan about fifteen blowjobs and it’s only been a month._ _

_ _He huffs a laugh to himself, just thinking about it._ _

_ _(They don’t do sexual favors. They don’t keep score and it’s never a competition in this one instance. But John does save up on certain things that he knows Jordan can only handle in small doses and this? Mixed with the Christmas spirit and the extra hormones floating around from the babies? Jordan wouldn’t last two minutes.)_ _

_ _They’ve already stocked up on the stocking stuffer candy and silly toys, and most of the gifts have been under the tree since just after American Thanksgiving -- all except for the ones designated to be from Santa._ _

_ _Again, John feels some fragile emotions try to well up and he tamps them down, trying his hardest to remember that they still have plenty of years ahead to enjoy the magic. Matty’s taking one for the team, so to speak._ _

_ _

_ _

_ _Christmas cookie decoration nearly ends in tears and both Tiago and Kari blow out their diapers, but Christmas Eve ends with cookies on a plate left out for Santa with a glass of oat milk beside it. Jordan reads _A Visit from St. Nicholas_ and Addie insists on them all changing back into the Christmas “jim-jams” that they wore for their family photos early that morning._ _

_ _John’s dead tired by the end of the night, emotionally and physically drained._ _

_ _But once the big triplets have finally wound down and dozed off, John heads back downstairs with Jordan to silently add a couple of presents to the pile. Their tags read “FROM: SANTA” and John doesn’t think he’s ever going to change that, no matter how big the kids get._ _

_ _He catches Jordan taking bites out of some cookies left on the plate, being sure to leave crumbs, and John takes a couple of sips of the milk to make it even more convincing._ _

_ _After, John’s about ready to ask Jordan to carry him up the stairs, but instead -- Jordan reaches out, grabbing John around his soft middle, and pulls him in close. They’re standing in just the perfect spot to see the low lighting from over the oven for Santa as well as the Christmas tree and a few of the decorations -- an inherited Christmas village and a couple of fancy snow globes._ _

_ _John relaxes back into Jordan’s hold and turns, allowing himself to be squeezed into a tight hug._ _

_ _“Merry Christmas,” Jordan says, tired eyes reflecting the twinkle coming from the tree. HIs smile’s as silly as ever, and his scent’s bright and sharp and full of love._ _

_ _“Yeah,” John says, soft and happy. He returns the phrase, “Merry Christmas, J.”_ _

**Author's Note:**

> oh and hey, if tumblr isn't your thing, you can always shoot me an email at my gmail: onceuponamoonfic ❤️


End file.
